


Drabbles

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fellowship of the Ring, General, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2005-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trust

"I don't trust him, Mister Frodo. I won't be sleeping none too soon tonight. But you sleep. You need it. I'll just sit here beside you."

"Sam," Frodo sighed heavily. "Lord Elrond himself picked him to be one of the Fellowship. Would he not have known if there was danger from him?"

"That sounds right and all, Mister Frodo, but as my old Gaffer would say, 'You can't stand behind a cow, no matter how friendly it seems.;"

Frodo could not help but laugh aloud. "Sam, dear Sam. I will listen to you then, if that is how you feel."


	2. Quake - Double Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

Quake

"What?" His frightened cry was drowned by the fierce scream of Orcs as they shot arrow after arrow at the little group on the stairs.

He was sure he had felt it, a slight trembling under his feet. But no one else said a word or looked beyond the attack. The Elf returned the fire. But he had not bow, and the ground shook beneath him, for one moment, he was sure.

There it was again! This time he was certain. Something was terribly wrong. He looked up, saw Legolas and Gandalf on the far side and decided. He yelled Merry's name, placed his arms around Pippin and Merry's waists and held on tight. The distance was far and he would be lifting two Halflings. Would he be able to make it? Would it be safer to just toss one at a time?

The formidable shaking of the stair, still undiscerned by the others, decided him. He gave a great yell, pushed with all his might, and jumped the crevice. He made it, with room to spare. Arms reached out and held him as he swayed slightly to the left. He had made it. A great grin crossed his face.


	3. What Becomes of Bill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

"But Sam, I promise you. Gandalf has said words over Bill. He will be protected now. You need not worry."

"There are wolves, Strider. I remember Bilbo's tales of the wolves. 'Twas only the eagles that saved him an' the dwarves from them."

Strider smiled.

"I don't think an eagle could pick up Bill," Sam muttered to himself as he patted the pony's nose. "Probably not even an oliphant could lift him, bein' as he's gotten so fat."

Strider's smile grew wider.

"I believe we should keep Bill here a little longer," Boromir chimed in.

Sam looked up in hope.


	4. The Perfect Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

"If you move again, I will call the Master Healer, and I assure you he will be none too pleased to know that you are causing me such grief. I have served the Houses of Healing for nigh unto an age, I will have you know, and none have ever…."

'Would she never be still?' he wondered, his head throbbing with every word she spoke. The clamor of her speech slowly tapered as darkness wrapped him and Pippin, who friends would have said was the perfect mirror to the woman who tended him, gratefully drifted off.

Much to Merry's horror.


	5. Spring for Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

"Minas Tirith, Mister Frodo. Do you think we'll ever see it?"

"That is not our destination, Sam."

"Well and I know it, Mister Frodo, but it sounds like a grand place."

"Boromir does not stop talking about it, does he?"

"No, that he doesn't, but he loves it as much as I love the Shire; I can tell."

Sam's eyes dreamed and Frodo smiled.

"I'm missing the Shire already. Spring is coming right quick and the flowers I planted under Mister Bilbo's windows should be close to blooming. Do you suppose we might be home in time for the harvest?"


	6. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

"Shut yer gob; I hear somethin'," the Orc next to him turned.

"What are ya talkin' about? I don't hear nothin'," he stated, scratching his head and looking everywhere but up.

The pail hit the first Orc's head dead center before he even had a moment to look up. What brains were in him were effectively squashed.

"Argh," the second Orc screamed and jumped back. "The cave is falling!"

He ran right and left, screaming at the top of his lungs as more debris fell: a dismembered skeleton, a long chain, and a sword.

Pippin looked down the well, horrified.


	7. Hide & Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

As the Orcs came at him, he remembered.

_They had played hide and seek all their lives, as brothers oft do, and still he had not once been able to find him. Always, he had to surrender._

_Then, it would be his turn to hide and he would be found before a moment's hesitation. He knew his playmate was quick, but this was becoming absurd._

Now, he wished his playmate were with him, for he had been commanded to find the halflings and protect them. Instead, he found the band of Orcs charging down the hill towards the defenseless little ones.

"Faramir," he sighed. "Would that you had taught these little ones to hide."


	8. Boromir's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

I know 'tis not my place to complain. For, in truth, I have been the one who has inherited the noble look of Númenor. I have inherited the strong arms, quick reflexes, and great eyes of the men of Westerness. Yet, there is one thing that I have not inherited. And I find it most irksome.   
  
Perhaps none notice. My strong jaw line, my muscular arms, my full lips, all command attention. It is such a little thing that vexes me. And yet – I cannot let it go!   
  
Why, by the Valar, does Faramir have hair more luxurious than mine?   
  
  
  
I'm sorry! I couldn't resist.   In the movie, did not poor Boromir have the scrawniest locks and Faramir's hair was full and luxurious. Drove me nuts!!!


	9. Frodo at the Battle of Bywater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

Frodo at the Battle of Bywater  
   
I tried to tell them…  
   
Stop, please.  Do you not see what is happening here?  We cannot hurt each other.  We cannot resort to violence as they do.  There must be some way, some better way to resolve this.  Put away your swords, please.   
   


But no, they could not listen.  They would not.  And now Hobbits lie dead on the road.  And my beloved Shire will never be the same.  Pain floods my heart as I see the Ring continue its horrid reign.  We will never be free of the evil it created.  All has changed.  I cannot bear it.


	10. No Money for Extras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

There was the contest, of course.  Sam had long waited for it.  His palms fairly itched at the thought of the prize money and the seeds he would buy with it.  Seeds for his own mother's garden, not Bilbo's this time.  He smiled at the thought.  His mum would be so happy, once the flowers bloomed.  The Gaffer didn't have money for extras like flowers.  Enough that they had plenty of food on the table: that was the important thing. 

But if his Gaffer was known for his potatoes, well then, why could not Sam be known for his pumpkins!


	11. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

A winter storm, the first of the season, loomed in the distance.  Great black clouds roiled across the sky, whipped by western winds.  The sea beat boats against their docks.  The wind felt good on his face.  He could smell the salt air and hear the gulls calling their lonely cry, preparing to feast on the banquet that would be laid before them, after the storm passed. 

He looked towards the horizon and thought of Westernesse.  The yearning had left his heart and for that, he was grateful.  Peace had settled upon the land.  Those warriors who had survived the Pelennor had returned. 

But where was Finduilas?  Where was Boromir?  Where was Denethor?  His family had been decimated by the War of the Ring.  Had too much been given?  Would surrender have been preferable to this great loss? 

Elboron ran towards him, arms wide open, smile splitting the boy's face and Imrahil smiled.  'Nay, all would have been lost.  All.  I can now rejoice in this lad and in the sacrifice of my people.  They will not be forgotten as we raise our goblets high.  Hail, Denethor, Hail Boromir, Hail Gondor.  And Hail Belfalas.' 

A wave crashed over the seawall.


	12. Of Airs and Heirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

The air of Ithilien was sweet.  He closed his eyes and drank in the scents of herbs and flowers.  'Twas good to smell beauty again.  His mind went back to the smell of smoke, pungent in the stale air of the Steward's House.  'Nay,' he thought, 'I will not remember that time again.  'Tis over and done with.  Gondor has been saved.'

   


Opening his eyes, he walked towards the newly planted shrubs that outlined the buildings on this side of the Anduin.  The Elf had done well.  The grounds were beautiful.  His master had an heir and Beregond had peace.


	13. Ent draught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles, double drabbles, etc.

Hroom-hoom. Ent draught always taste best this time of year. It sparkles and tickles my nose. I wish Merry and Pippin were here. They would most enjoy this year's harvest. Though they would have been hasty, and drunk the first spill, not waiting for the better draught that comes behind.   
  
Hrum, Hoom, I think I am happy they came into my forest. Oh! That is a hasty thing to say. Yet – they did brighten things up a bit. Root and twig, I wish them well. Perhaps they would have brought news with them, too. News of the Entwives. Hm, hroom.


End file.
